The silence was less sacred and more oppressive in Oliver's opinion. He watched Asch curiously, struggling to distract himself from his own thoughts. The cooking was simple, mechanical--not so much interesting as a rhythm that he could focus his thoughts on if he wanted to. Oliver was surprised by the bag at least, although he was no stranger to things--including pockets--that were bigger on the inside. He just hadn't expected to see that technology here.
He considered telling Asch that he didn't want a sandwich at all. For one, he definitely had nothing even resembling an appetite at the moment. But on top of that, he didn't want to take Asch's food, particularly if Asch wasn't in friendly territory. Seeing that Asch was waiting for him to take the sandwich, though, it seemed he didn't have a choice. He accepted it, politely taking a tiny bite. Unfortunately, the taste of food reminded his stomach of what he'd seen, and he had to force himself to swallow. The bread felt like a thick lump in his throat. He lowered his hands, holding the sandwich in his lap for now.
"I...I'm jumping between worlds," he said, his voice quiet and uncertain. He looked at his lap rather than at Asch. The comment was more an excuse to break the silence than to avoid eating. For some reason, while watching Asch cook for him, his anger had been dissipating rather than growing. Maybe it had something to do with the memories that it evoked--those of a seven-year-old who felt safe and cared for. In any case, Oliver didn't want the tension to continue. "I'll probably disappear soon." He meant it as a comfort, but the words rung uncertainly in the air. He didn't know what he was doing at all. Why was it always so hard with Asch?
no subject
He considered telling Asch that he didn't want a sandwich at all. For one, he definitely had nothing even resembling an appetite at the moment. But on top of that, he didn't want to take Asch's food, particularly if Asch wasn't in friendly territory. Seeing that Asch was waiting for him to take the sandwich, though, it seemed he didn't have a choice. He accepted it, politely taking a tiny bite. Unfortunately, the taste of food reminded his stomach of what he'd seen, and he had to force himself to swallow. The bread felt like a thick lump in his throat. He lowered his hands, holding the sandwich in his lap for now.
"I...I'm jumping between worlds," he said, his voice quiet and uncertain. He looked at his lap rather than at Asch. The comment was more an excuse to break the silence than to avoid eating. For some reason, while watching Asch cook for him, his anger had been dissipating rather than growing. Maybe it had something to do with the memories that it evoked--those of a seven-year-old who felt safe and cared for. In any case, Oliver didn't want the tension to continue. "I'll probably disappear soon." He meant it as a comfort, but the words rung uncertainly in the air. He didn't know what he was doing at all. Why was it always so hard with Asch?